Nine Months
by bewildered.in.the.city
Summary: A series of disappearances across New Olympia may be linked to our Heroes' quest. Their investigations, however, lead them down a path no one could imagine...
1. Prologue

Hi there, everyone. Long time reader, first time writer. Just a little story I've had in the back of my mind. This is the first time I've posted a piece of writing publicly, so I'm a little nervous. It's just a short prologue-y thing, but feedback of all kinds is still very welcome :-) First chapter coming soon.

* * *

Nine Months.

**PROLOGUE**

_She feels sluggish; arms heavy by her side. Talking is strange but she doesn't understand why. She is holding onto a stranger, he is supporting her because her legs aren't working properly. In the reflection of a passing window she catches a flash of red hair. It belongs to her, she knew that, but she doesn't feel like herself. _How can I tell him I don't know what's going on?_ She trips as he drags her towards a house. Hands help her to her feet, voices swirl around her. Moving forward. Now she is inside, more people. Someone flops her against a couch. Sounds… strange sounds… Someone is trying to talk to her. He is in front of her, face slipping in and out of focus. She stares at his lips, the constant movement, before meaning registers. He is asking her name. _My name... yes, my name_… She opens her mouth to speak but the words don't come. She tries again, tries harder. A sound escapes, a murmur, but the word won't form. Something on her head. A hand. Her legs don't have time to react; she feels herself dragged into the next room…_

Theresa snapped awake, wide-eyed and covered in sweat. A single word played on her mind. _Alexandra._ The dream had carried the divine feeling of prophecy, but she couldn't be sure—it wasn't like normal. Her future-visions had never been in first person. She was always the onlooker, never the subject, even when the prediction concerned herself. And yet she couldn't shake the feeling… it had felt so _real_!

The clock beside her flashed 3:38. She climbed out of bed and threw a robe over her pyjamas. A glass of water would help settle her mind. Downstairs, she was surprised to see the refrigerator door open, someone picking at the contents. The beacon light illuminated the culprit.

'Hey, Herry.' Theresa couldn't help but smile.

Herry immediately straightened up, slice of chocolate cake in hand. 'Uh... sprung?' He put on his best innocent face.

'Can't sleep, either?' She filled a glass from the tap.

'No way. I was having crazy dreams.' A flash of almost-worry crossed his face.

Theresa perked up. Perhaps she wasn't the only one?

'About cake.' Herry continued, shoving the whole slice into his mouth. He pointed at his mouth. 'This cake in fact!' He gave a self-satisfied nod and grinned. 'Problem solved!'

'Right.'

He continued to mumble at her through his mouthful. 'So what brings you out of bed this morning?'

She gave a wry smile 'Much of the same… crazy dreams. Nothing I can't handle, though.'

'I would suggest cake. And then more sleep. Speaking of which, goodnight.' Herry gave a bow and disappeared into the shadows, jaw still wrestling against the cake.

_Thank you, Dr Herry. _She didn't understand how anyone could have an appetite at this ridiculous hour; a year and a half of Brownstone living and Herry's strange eating habits were still as mysterious to her as they had been on day one.

She tried to distract herself with trivial thoughts such as these, but the name felt like it was etched into her bones.

_Alexandra..._

She shivered.


	2. Chapter One

Wow, what exciting feedback! Thanks to **sky in her eyes**, **Little Miss Illusional**, **4everallways**, **HoneyGoddess57**, **merdisney **and **Humus and Peeta** for their kind and enthusiastic reviews, and to anyone else taking time out of their lives to read this. I love that there are some theories developing already! What fun!

The more I try to figure out the logistics of this story, the more complicated it becomes. This may turn into a novel. (Or it may not. I can't tell because I've never written anything like this before. But either way, you have been warned.)

* * *

Nine Months.

**CHAPTER ONE**

'Good morning, Brownstone!' Neil announced his arrival at breakfast. 'I hope you're all feeling fabulous!'

'We've discussed this, Neil.' Archie didn't look up from his cereal. 'No one feels fabulous; it's Monday morning.'

Neil took a seat and Athena passed him his usual low-carb high-antioxidant breakfast. 'Well, you only have yourself to blame. If you'd joined me in my Sunday night pore-cleansing skin-steam treatment, like I offered, you'd be feeling just as fabulous as I do right now!'

Archie sighed. 'Jay, can you make some team rule against "fabulousness"?'

'I don't know…' The leader poured a glass of juice. 'I might make it mandatory. If we all felt as fabulous as Neil, it might be easier to get you all out of bed on Mondays.'

'Plus it would really sort out those blackheads around your nose.' Neil studied Jay's face.

The leader frowned, head cocked to one side. 'Could you recognise that I was on your side just now?'

'Uh-huh.'

'And still you insulted me.'

'Yep.'

Atlanta reached for a slice of toast. 'Jay, sometimes it's really hard to tell when you're joking and when you're not. So I'm just going to put it out there: if you were joking, then that was surprisingly funny. And if you weren't, then I quit.'

'Hang on, "surprisingly" funny? And what do you mean you can't tell when I'm joking?' Jay blinked.

Odie rolled his eyes, looking up from his newspaper. 'Most people use unconscious vocal inflections to signify when they are making a joke. You don't. That's why most people find your jokes confusing.'

'Since when were my jokes confusing?!'

An awkward silence followed. Team members looked hard at the walls, the floor, the table…

'What jokes?' Herry alone continued eating, oblivious to the change in mood. 'Or was thatthe joke?' He shrugged. 'I can never tell with you.'

Archie snorted into his juice and the team dissolved into laughter. At first Jay tried very hard to look stern and offended, but eventually he succumbed to the group vibe. Only Theresa, frowning softly into space, was silent.

Something in Odie's newspaper caught Atlanta's eye. 'Hey! I've seen her!' she pulled the paper closer and pointed to a picture of a smiling girl with curly red hair and braces. 'She plays keeper for St Katherine's and… Oh. Now she's dead.'

Neil's eyes grew wide in genuine wonder. 'Could this be the first ever non-Cronus related murder in New Olympia?'

Odie raised a brow. 'No one said it was murder, Neil. Besides, murder isn't actually uncommon here. Statistically speaking, we're just under the national average per capita. If you ever picked up a newspaper you might know this.'

'See what this war is doing to me?' Neil fretted. 'I'm becoming so morbid! And uneducated!'

Archie rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, this isn't really about you.'

Atlanta was absorbed in the article. 'Oh this is disgusting… Apparently some jerk drugged her at a party and decided it would be a good idea to rape and then murder her.' She shivered. 'Some people are beyond creeps.'

'See? I was right; it _was_ murder!'

'Again, not about you, Neil.'

'Do they know who did it?' Herry asked.

She scanned the article. 'Nope. Still investigating.'

Herry's face was drawn into an uncharacteristic scowl and he cracked his knuckles one by one.

'I agree,' Atlanta said quickly. 'Can we, Jay?'

'Absolutely not!' Jay had been their leader for long enough to know exactly what they were thinking. 'We're not vigilantes; we have our own mission. If it doesn't involve Cronus then it's an issue for the police.'

Herry and Atlanta shot each other furtive glances.

'And there will be _no_ further discussion.' He looked to the pair sternly.

Neil sighed over the photograph. 'It's so tragic when people die young. She never got to have her braces removed, never felt the joy of smiling with a perfect set of teeth… You know, with a decent conditioner and some skin care she really might have been something… What did you say her name was?'

Atlanta rolled her eyes. 'I didn't. But honestly, Neil, can't you—?'

'Alexandra!' The name tumbled out of Theresa's mouth before she could stop it.

The rest of the team turned to look at the mystic.

'Her name was Alexandra,' she repeated quietly, uncomfortably aware of their glances.

Atlanta frowned. She looked to the paper then back to her friend. 'No it wasn't. It was Amelia. Amelia Buchannan.' She passed the paper across the table. 'Look.'

The confusion turning to relief was evident on Theresa's face, and she gave a shaky laugh.

'You okay?' Jay asked softly.

'I thought… never mind. I was just wrong about something.' Appetite returning, she made a late start on breakfast. 'Of course I was wrong. I don't know what I was…'

Herry burped. 'Well, if anyone wants a lift this morning, I'm leaving in ten.'

* * *

'It's getting harder to tell the prophecies from the regular dreams,' she murmured, the heavy, scented air of the meditation chamber filling her mind with a gentle haze.

'You're tired,' came the voice of Persephone. 'And you're still learning.'

'I thought… I really thought…'

'Relax. Let go of your thoughts. Concentrate on your breathing.'

Theresa let the familiar, heady scent swirl through her, the impending weightlessness tingling through her fingers. 'I thought I was getting better…'

'Hush…' her mentor said gently. 'Hush now…'

She felt cool fingertips against her temples; Persephone would vision alongside her today. Comforted, she allowed herself to sink into the calling blackness. There was a lurch, a fall — darkness and light and energy rushing around her — and then…

_The sound of a baby crying. _

_There is a man standing over a crib. He is angry and afraid and it swirls out of him like ink through water. He holds his hands to his ears._

_The child's energy is curious. It shines out of the crib, bright and gold with the faintest tinge of green at the edges. _

_Something is happening to time. Is it going too slow? Too fast? The scene begins to shake._

_And then the baby is gone. The room looks different. The man and an old woman are talking, voices raised, and then the world crumbles._

_A new room. Two men, young and rough, stare at something in the corner. It has an energy force, whatever it is, but it is low and pale and dwindling. She can feel it will not last long. The scene begins to shake but she holds on to it, wrestles with it… she is curious, feels something… the scene tumbles around her._

'_We got the wrong one.' The voice echoes strangely, sounds metallic with distortion._

_When the scene settles, the life in the corner has gone out. _

_She is wrenched upwards._

Reality was hard and painful as she was forced back into it. She clutched her head. 'What? Why did you…?'

The goddess's face was twisted. 'Something isn't…'

'What's happening?

Persephone turned to face the girl. 'You need to see the Oracle.'


	3. Chapter Two

New writers take note: what feels like heaps and heaps and heaps of writing in Microsoft Word actually boils down to surprisingly little after upload. Kind of like cooking spinach.

Thank you again, kind reviewers (shout-out to new reviewers, **Tatiana**, **Wolflover40 **and** zquest**) and thanks to anyone who is still sticking with this story. It's all going somewhere, I promise.

* * *

'Will you give it a rest? I _said_ I'm fine!'

The voice was unmistakably Atlanta's. It drifted in from the street to where most of the team had assembled in the Brownstone kitchen.

Archie's voice floated after her. 'I'm not an idiot, ok? And excuse me for being worried!'

'It was a tinyheadache! And now it's gone! P.S…' The front door slammed. '…I win.'

'A _tiny_ headache!? You could barely walk! And P.S that doesn't count.'

Footsteps thumped towards the kitchen. The rest of the team braced themselves.

'Sorry we're late,' Archie said through gritted teeth. '_Someone_ was being stubborn.'

'Whatever,' Atlanta positively fumed after him. '_Someone_ was over reacting.' She stomped towards the sink and filled two tall glasses with water.

'Guys! Settle, please.' Jay rubbed his forehead. 'We have… things to discuss.'

Atlanta slammed a glass down in front of Archie and took her usual seat at the table.

Jay did his best to ignore them. 'Right… uh… we'll make this quick. The Gods want us to visit the Oracle. They think something might be happening to interfere with or somehow alter our prophecy. Theresa will explain more.'

Theresa shot him a small smile. 'My visions have been unstable lately. A lot of what I'm seeing I don't understand. It's like… mental gibberish. I can't tell if the visions are supposed to be symbolic in some way, or whether they're literal. Anyway, Persephone saw some of what I was visioning today and she was concerned. Like Jay said, she thinks something might be happening to interfere with the prophecy, or our futures. We're talking interference outside of the normal decision-outcome spectrum. Though this is all just guesswork, and to be honest I have no idea what it actually means.

'Are we doomed?'

'I don't know, Neil.'

'Does this have anything to do with the shift in the Beta Minos within the constellation of Hydrus?'

'I don't even know what that means, Odie. And if anyone else has any further questions: I don't know.'

'But what do you mean by—'

'I don't understa—'

'Do you think this will—'

Jay cleared his throat. 'Ok. Whoever isn't busy in the next hour or so should come with us to see the Oracle. We'll leave as soon as possible.'

'I'm out. I need to… do something,' Atlanta mumbled, brow creased.

'Like what?' Archie demanded.

'None of your business!'

He could have sworn he saw her pinching the bridge of her nose again as she left the room. 'You are the worst liar ever!' he shouted after her. He turned back to the team. 'Whatever. I'm in.' Frustration, for the moment, outweighed concern.

The rest of the team shot him sceptical glances.

'She's lying!' He defended immediately, pointing after her.

'Women, eh?' Neil grinned, before receiving an elbow in the ribs.

* * *

The man entered the stairwell to find the smell of the smell of cigarettes and piss almost intoxicating. Scowling, he climbed to the third floor, his heavy footsteps echoing around him.

The door to the apartment flung open before he had the chance to knock. The kid was standing there, pale and greasy haired, breathless. 'Reckon I've found it.'

The man shouldered past him into the apartment. 'So you said the last two times.' The room was dark and stale. It smelled of unwashed dishes and misery, like every other apartment in the neighbourhood.

The kid handed him a magazine. A high school yearbook. 'She wasn't on the database for any of the schools. Not on the enrolment records or anything. But…' He flipped through the pages in the other man's hands. 'See?'

The man squinted, holding the page close to his face. 'Is her hair red or brown?'

The kid frowned. 'Print quality is shit, but I reckon that's red.'

The man studied it under the lamp in the corner. 'Yeah, red enough. And the name…'

The kid flicked back a few pages. 'And look here…'

The man raised his brows. 'Another hockey player?'

The kid nodded. In a strange half-gesture he reached towards the picture. His features softened, twisted.

It was a look the man had seen far too often. He knew what was coming; he waited.

The kid took his time, though. He sighed, bit his lip. 'Do you… maybe think…' He looked at his shoes. '… that maybe she looks… maybe... kind of…' He almost flinched as he said the word. '…young?'

The man stared at the pinched, flickering face of the youth before him and had to contain a burst of disgust. 'You pass on your information and you collect your money. Nothing else is your concern.'

Pale fingers twisted at the hem of his t-shirt. His mouth flapped open and closed like a fish. 'But the other ones…'

The man clenched his jaw. 'Unfortunate coincidences, I'm sure.'

The kid took a deep breath. In a wobbly act of defiance, he raised his eyes.

The man folded his arms and met the youngster's look with a cold, firm glare. There was no mistaking the threat in his voice. 'Unfortunate. Coincidences.'

The kid lowered his eyes. He understood.

The man placed an envelope in the kid's hands. 'Go buy yourself a treat.'

* * *

Neil blinked. 'Well, this can't be good.'

The teens stared at the abandoned newspaper stand. The usually well-maintained shelves were strewn with dusty magazines. Rubbish and dirt had begun to gather inside of the booth. A mouse scampered across one of the support brackets.

Jay brushed his hand against the counter top and inspected the dust on his fingertips. 'I don't think this is good at all…'

'I was here a few weeks ago. The Oracle was here then…' Theresa's voice was low and shaky.

Archie looked around, hand on his whip. 'We should ask someone if they know anything.'

'Excuse me.' Theresa attempted to get the attention of an older woman passing by. 'Excuse me, ma'am. Do you know what happened to that stall?'

The woman turned. 'The stall?' She gave a sharp laugh, wheezy and lingering. 'What happened to the neighbourhood?' She cackled, revealing blackened gums and missing teeth, before merging back into the crowd.

Theresa shivered.

'The old guy been cheating you out of your magazines, too?'

The team turned to look at a burly man who had stopped alongside them. Larger than Herry, he was sporting a beer gut, a collection of lewd tattoos and an impressive mutton chop/handlebar moustache combo.

He took their silence as a sign of confusion. 'You know… that guy who works here? Looks like a bald cat? Orders magazines for you and then runs off with your money?'

Odie reacted first. 'Yeah… I, uh, think that's our guy. Do you know where he is?'

The man laughed. 'About a month ago, right, he orders me this real hard-to-find edition of_ Monster Truck Machine Gun Mayhem_ from this collector in Texas. Practically have to pay in blood for it, too. Then, last Tuesday, the day before I'm supposed to collect it, the mongrel disappears! With my money _and_ my vintage limited edition _Monster Truck Machine Gun Mayhem_ with bonus miniature model ManCrusher5000 truck! Little bastard hasn't been game enough to show his face here since.'

The team shared a bemused look.

'Uh… that bastard!' Odie cursed uncertainly, slamming his fist into his other hand. 'Do you know where he went?'

'If I did I wouldn't be hanging around here; I'd be getting my paws on my beautiful Spring 1983 Collectors Edition _Monster Truck Machine Gun Mayhem_ containing the first feature article ever written by pioneer of the Monster Truck scene, Bob Chandler, _and _containing a cross-stitch pattern for a needlework Besa machine gun picture as used by the British troops in World War Two _and_—'

'Hold on.' Jay put an end to what looked like a _very_ detailed description of the magazine's contents. 'Have you happened to notice another man hanging around here? Wears a black business suit and has a scar on one cheek? Tacky facial hair.' Looking at the man, he regretted this last statement.

The big man furrowed his brows. (Thinking clearly wasn't a natural process.) Eventually he shook his head.

Jay shrugged. 'Well, it was nice meeting you, uh, sir.'

'The name's Lenny.' The man stuck out a beefy hand which Jay shook tentatively. 'Lenny Mallon. And if you find that newspaper man, you tell him that Lenny's looking for him and Lenny don't give up.'

'Uh… we'll be sure to pass it on, Lenny.' Jay's countenance changed as soon as the man had left. 'Ok. I think we can assume foul play. We'll split up and look for clues. Atlanta, you…' He trailed off as he remembered their resident tracker had stayed home. 'Never mind. New plan. Theresa and I will stay here and see what we can find in the immediate area. Herry and Neil, you guys head down the south road. Archie and Odie, head north. Don't wander too far guys, and meet back in ten.'

* * *

'This is pointless. If he _did_ disappear a week ago on a busy city sidewalk, any trail he made would have disappeared, too, long before now.' Archie begrudgingly inspected the pavement as he trudged along beside Odie.

'It _is_ a long shot,' Odie conceded. 'But it would be pretty frustrating if we missed something obvious because we… oh!' He stopped, kneeling to inspect something in the gutter.

'What is it?'

Odie dusted off something small and metallic in the palm of his hand. 'Now, I'm no expert in vehicles, but I believe I may be holding a miniature model ManCrusher5000 monster truck, circa 1983.'

Archie nodded slowly. 'Which means a collectors edition of _Monster Truck Machine Gun Mayhem _is probably floating around the streets somewhere_…_'

'Which was probably blown or bumped from the newspaper stand some time since last Tuesday…'

Archie rubbed his forehead. 'So… the Oracle was definitely here on Tuesday to collect the delivery of the magazine, but disappeared before he could hand it over on Wednesday. What does any of this mean?'

A familiar buzz interrupted any response Odie may have been forming. He checked the screen on his PMR and rolled his eyes. 'It's Jay.' He walked away to answer the call.

Archie rolled his eyes in response and returned to his attention to the footpath. He barely made it two steps when he felt himself being shoved to one side. 'Hey!'

'Watch it, punk.' A man shouldered past him, dropping something in the process.

Archie reached for the item. 'Hey! You dropped—!' he trailed off when he recognised what he was holding. Before he could blink, it was snatched out of his hands again.

'Keep your dirty hands off,' the man growled, hurrying away.

Archie scowled. 'Yeah, no need to thank me… whatever.'

'What was that about?' Odie caught up to the warrior.

Archie shrugged. 'Some ungrateful jerk with a copy of our yearbook.'

'Oh. Well, we're heading back. Theresa found something.'

'Yeah?'

'A note. With the word "Horatio" on it. She thinks the note was meant for us, though she can't tell if it was from the Oracle himself or someone more sinister.'

'i.e. Cronus.'

Odie nodded. 'The plan is to take the note to the Gods tomorrow and see what they think.'

Archie sighed. 'Does everything feel frustratingly vague to you?'

Odie smiled. 'Welcome to being a hero.'

* * *

The teens were still discussing various Oracle theories as they walked from the garage to the Brownstone.

'What if he just, I don't know, decided to retire?' Neil suggested.

'Halfway through a shift?' Theresa frowned.

'No way.' Herry fumbled through his keys for the one to open the front door. 'The Oracle wouldn't leave poor Lenny without his copy of _Monster Truck Machine Gun Mayhem_. He's not that cruel.'

'_Poor_ Lenny?' Archie raised a brow.

'Come on,' the brawn grinned. 'You gotta feel sorry for the little guy. He _really_ wanted his magazine.'

'He was bigger than you, Herry,' Archie said dryly. 'And I was more concerned about him squashing me with his monster truck and then shooting me with his machine gun.'

Herry laughed and opened the door, waving the purple-haired warrior though. 'Alright then, ladies first.'

The team filed in to a dark and empty Brownstone. No lights were on, not a noise to be heard. The shift in the mood was almost tangible.

'Where's Atlanta?' Theresa asked quietly.

Her question was met with five blank faces.

'Did she say she was heading out?' Jay glanced at Archie as Theresa and Herry left to investigate.

'I think her exact words were "none of your business", which I assumed was code for "I'm going to sulk around the Brownstone in denial of a debilitating headache".' He had a terrible feeling that he should have been more concerned and less frustrated after their earlier conversation. He jabbed a few buttons on his PMR.

Archie put the call on speaker; those present listened as the call rang out.

'I'll run a signal.' Odie had his laptop open before he had finished speaking.

'She's not in her room.' Theresa rushed back down the stairs. 'Her PMR's on her bedside table and her window's open.'

'Her window's always open.'

Herry hurried back to the group, chewing. 'She didn't leave a note on the fridge, either.'

'Is this what the Gods were talking about?' Neil fretted. 'About changes to the future? To the prophecy? What if the Oracle and Atlanta, but more importantly Atlanta, are _dead_?'

Archie paled.

'What are you lot stressing about now?'

Six heads snapped towards the voice at the top of the stairs. 'ATLANTA!'

The huntress was in a bathrobe, towel wrapped around her hair, arms folded in front of her. '… yes?'

'It's... nice to see you…?' Theresa attempted to cover the awkwardness of the situation.

Jay rubbed his temples, muttering loudly as he walked away, 'This happens _way_ too often! I need to get you lot microchipped.' He stopped in front of Neil. 'P.S, jumping to the worst possible conclusion is _never_ helpful. Just so you know.'

The blonde teen waited until Jay had left the room before letting concern flood his perfect features. 'Was he serious?' he whispered to Herry. 'About the microchipping?'

Herry looked perplexed. 'I have absolutely no idea.'

At the top of the stairs, Atlanta frowned at Theresa. 'You guys didn't happen to think I was _dead_, did you?'

The psychic grinned sheepishly. 'I'll catch you up on what you missed.'

* * *

**Special side note:** I know there have been some issues with plagiarism going on around the archives lately, so I'm pretty nervous about posting this chapter. I know that Little Miss Illusional is also dealing with a missing Oracle in her _Series Three_, and I _really_, really don't want to step on any toes with my story. I promise that the similarities weren't at all intentional — I've been mulling over my story for a while now, and I'm sure Little Miss Illusional has been doing the same with hers.

With the knowledge that our plot twists are currently kind of similar, I've tried to write this as different as I can to Little Miss Illusional's piece. As it stands at the moment, I feel like it's not too similar, but it can be hard to be objective about your own writing. So if I'm wrong, and this comes across as really similar, _please_ please let me know and I'll take it down for a rewrite.

It's also possible I'm just being paranoid about the whole issue (I'm really good at stressing where stressing isn't necessary) but either way, I just wanted to clear the air and open the floor to anyone who might feel uncomfortable about the similar content.

Thanks kindly.


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